


Come Someday

by Aryagraceling



Series: Rare Pair Central [11]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Emotional Sex, Established Relationship, First Time Bottoming, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Prompt: Worship, Scar Worship, Self Confidence Issues, all puns intended
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-02-07 07:58:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18616450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aryagraceling/pseuds/Aryagraceling
Summary: “What would you do if someday came?” he asks softly.Raidou’s answer is simple. “Love you.”





	1. Chapter 1

Every shinobi has scars. Many of them are obvious, many are hidden, and many still aren’t visible at all. They are carried in dark hearts and wounded minds, in memories and dreams that do nothing but pull at the fractured peace a person tries to cultivate. If you’re lucky, you get out with a few puckered marks on your skin to show for it. You can sit at home on your porch and watch your children and grandchildren grow under Konoha’s sun, and you can rejoice.

If you’re unlucky, they burn you.

If you’re stuck in the middle, the scars are a heavier burden to bear than any mission. The crimson washes from your hands but it never truly leaves, no--by the time you get to the showers it’s wormed its way under your skin to stain your memory of the day. Through every shower, every rainstorm, every tear shed, it remains. 

Eventually you stop crying. You stop  _ trying.  _ You let yourself fall into the same pattern of waking, breaking, and taking, and you never,  _ ever  _ show weakness, because being vulnerable means another blade narrowly missing your lungs. Being vulnerable means leaving yourself open to an attack that most days sounds like mercy, but is anything but.

Being vulnerable is for the ones who can wash the blood from their souls.

Ibiki stands in the street as the spring rains begin. He’s finished for the day--though is he ever, really--and wants nothing more than to shut his door behind him, sink to the floor, and rest. Even his bed seems too far away, the thought of seventeen extra steps too much as he trudges through the gentle pattering. His coat keeps him mostly dry, but he can feel the way the drops cause his bandana to hug every pit that it’s supposed to hide. 

He should really change it before Raidou shows up to pull him out of the house for the night. 

The storm only worsens with every stride until it’s pouring on him, cold and miserable and making him crave nothing but a warm blanket and some tea hot enough to burn his sins away. But that’s not in the cards, and he’ll go for whiskey instead. Raidou will be over in...god, he doesn’t even know how long. The clock face is blurry and he doesn’t bother wiping the rain from his eyes before shedding the sodden fabric and reclining on the bed with a low groan.

Today was hard, there’s no other way of putting it. There wasn’t even blood. He almost wishes there had been, because somehow cutting away at someone’s skin is easier than cutting away at their mind. Breaking fingers is easier than breaking barriers, and he hates the way he can tell the difference between the screams. 

Anything for Konoha, though.

If he had hair he’d run his fingers through it, sink into the sensation of something better than pulling skin and the aches that plague him more often than not, but that was an ‘if’ lost with his desire to feel again. 

Raidou’s helping with that, he supposes, though it’s hard for both of them. There’s little room for give in Ibiki’s life these days. It’s not that he always  _ takes,  _ but it’s that he can’t find it in himself to open in the same way the other man can. Quiet means he doesn’t have to speak life into what he’s done, and Raidou seems content enough to love him with the lights off anyway. 

Time passes quickly, the knock on his door startling his eyes open and forcing him up and into a shirt before another sharp rap comes. “It’s me,” Raidou calls, and Ibiki opens the door with downcast eyes and a weary smile.

“Didn’t expect you this early,” he says.

“It’s nearly eight.” 

“Can’t be.” Ibiki moves to let him in and squints at the clock over his head. “I just got home a few minutes ago.”

“Inoichi said you left after he did, and that he was late,” Raidou says, setting a hand on his shoulder and anchoring him in place. “He sounded a little worried, if I’m being honest.”

“Yeah, well…” There isn’t much to say beyond that.  “It was busy.”

“Sure.” Raidou lets Ibiki shrug him off before following him to the couch, reclining against him. The warmth is comforting, a reminder that there’s at least something to hold besides the weight of everyone else’s gazes. “Do you still want to go out tonight?”

“If you do,” Ibiki says. 

“And if I don’t?” Raidou looks up at Ibiki for a second before turning his head to stare at the water streaming down the windows. “If I just want to be with you tonight?”

“I’d like that,” Ibiki says softly. He’s relieved. Genma has been hounding them for weeks now and where Raidou’s best friend is concerned, he’s unpredictable. Ibiki looks to the ceiling and shoots up a silent thank you to whatever gods may still exist before tucking Raidou under his arm and holding him close. “Avoiding Genma or avoiding the rest of the village tonight?”

“Neither. I’m ignoring them in favor of someone who needs me more,” Raidou says. 

“You’re too kind.” Ibiki gives him another, gentler smile before sinking into the couch and putting his feet on the coffee table. “Thank you.”

“I figure it’s the least I can do for the man who took care of my sorry ass with the flu this winter,” Raidou says with a snort. “You know bars aren’t usually my thing, anyway.”

“Unless they’re through my skin, hmm?”

“Be nicer if you’d let me see them,” Raidou says. He shakes his head when Ibiki begins to protest, holding up a finger to Ibiki’s torn lips. “I know, ‘dangerous.’ It’s all right, I can feel them just fine.” The finger trails down, drawing Ibiki’s lip open before it drops to trace the line cutting through Ibiki’s chest. “But maybe someday…”

Ibiki shivers when Raidou’s fingers quest to his nipple, drawing out a soft moan when he flicks lightly. “Maybe someday,” he echoes.

Raidou is generous with both time and patience. He waits patiently on the bed for Ibiki to blacken the room before undressing, waits patiently until Ibiki sighs his name and pulls his hands to the book of secrets written on his skin, waits patiently when Ibiki needs time for himself after their cries no longer echo from the rafters. 

Raidou waits until Ibiki is comfortable, even though comfort isn’t ensured.

Ibiki does not make promises anymore. When your life is built on lies and deception, it’s too easy to hide behind honeyed words. People have learned not to ask him for promises, too. From Genma years ago begging for a promise he’d come home unharmed to Aoba weeks ago, asking if he’d commit to help organizing the office, he’s learned promises lead to disappointment, which leads to despair. But Raidou hasn’t asked for a promise, and for that, maybe-- _ maybe-- _ Ibiki can make an exception to the rules that govern him. 

“What would you do if someday came?” he asks softly. 

Raidou’s answer is simple. “Love you.”

“Oh,” Ibiki whispers. He cards his fingers through Raidou’s hair as he swallows, the words he wants so desperately to say catching in his throat. They’ve both known it was coming. It had to, at some point, but Ibiki did not expect it here. He did not expect it now. 

“Let me in sometime,” Raidou says. His head falls so he’s resting his cheek over Ibiki’s heart, marred skin pressed against marred skin as he listens to the one promise Ibiki  _ can  _ make--one of life, one of existence. “Someday.” 

He does not press for anything more, but Ibiki gently pushes him off and retreats to the kitchen for a glass of water. It goes down easily, and the sound of Raidou getting up and padding over doesn’t cause the nerves it should. Feeling him just standing there, inches behind him, doesn’t cause the nerves it should. People in his space isn’t something he’s used to, yet somehow Raidou is different.

“Come here,” he says with a sharp crook of his fingers, and Raidou obeys.

“I mean it,” he says. He meets Ibiki’s gaze fearlessly, without any of the caution people on the street afford him. “It’s okay if you don’t.”

Ibiki hangs his head with a soft huff. “It’s not that I don’t,” he says. “It’s that I don’t know how anymore.”

“T&I has taken that, too?” Raidou asks.

This time he actually laughs. “You don’t get as good as I am and get out intact.” He looks over to see Raidou’s face softening with concern, and wraps his hand around the other man’s wrist. “I’m doing my best.”

“I know.” Raidou rests his forehead on Ibiki’s shoulder, kisses the swell of his upper arm before sighing and folding himself into Ibiki’s side. “I know.”

“How can you love someone who’s done the things I’ve done?” 

“Same way I’d love any shinobi,” Raidou murmurs into his shirt. “We’ve all done things we’re not proud of, Ibiki.”

“I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of,” Ibiki says. “I’ve killed, I’ve maimed, I’ve ruined. These--” he lets Raidou go to hold out his hands-- “have done irreparable damage and I’ve paid for it over and over again.”

He doesn’t miss the way Raidou’s eyes flick over his scars.

“And you still…” He trails off at the heat of Raidou’s hand falling to his waist. “Somehow…”

“I’m here to listen when you want to tell your story,” Raidou says.

Very slowly, Ibiki reaches down to pull Raidou’s hand to the tie of his hitai-ate. “Take it off,” he says. He shuts his eyes and does his best not to shake as Raidou’s fingers work the knot, tries so hard not to press his face into his warm palm. “You’ve felt it,” he rasps. “Now look at what they’ve made me.”

Raidou’s ‘mine’ is as unexpected as his pinning Ibiki to the counter.  _ “Some day,”  _ he says pointedly, “you might even believe that.” He leans in and worlds are born in the seconds that their breath mingles before just barely, his lips brush over Ibiki’s. “I hope.”

“Do you?” Ibiki breathes.

“You deserve to believe it,” Raidou says, smiling softly when he pulls back. “Believe  _ me  _ even if you can’t believe yourself.” The calluses on his fingers slide over the dips and ridges of Ibiki’s scalp and Ibiki  _ wants  _ to move, he does, but he’s frozen, paralyzed by the brown eyes staring at what he’s tried to hard to hide. “Please.”

Ibiki nods once and breaks eye contact to look at the hem of Raidou’s shirt, where he’s fidgeting with the fabric in place of speaking.  _ “I want to believe you,”  _ he’d say if his throat wasn’t as dry as the plains around Suna.  _ “I want to show you.” _ But those words stick too, and he can only tug the fabric up until Raidou breaks away to put it on a kitchen chair. 

He’s not shy about his scars. They twist down his face and chest to disappear beneath the waist of his jeans, but Ibiki knows they span to just above his knee. He doesn’t know how many times during stolen moments at home he’s looked at them, how many nights he’s spent memorizing their every curve. The way he’s looking at Ibiki now is unassuming and unafraid.

He’s looking at Ibiki’s bare skin with affection instead of the horror Ibiki had half expected.

“Your turn next,” Raidou risks. “There’s even a whole other chair for your clothes.”

“Not here.” Not with the street only a few feet away and certainly not in a room where anyone could come up and knock. Ibiki’s fingers brush against Raidou’s as he walks past, motioning him toward the bedroom. “Wait,” he says when they reach the door, and as always, Raidou does. 

Ibiki makes his rounds, making extra sure all blinds are shut tight and seals are in place. He’s got more in place than even Kakashi, a fact Aoba makes fun of him for whenever he shows up to bother him. When satisfied, he turns back to see Raidou with his arms crossed and leaning against the doorframe with something indescribable in his eyes.

Something hungry, perhaps.

Something like love.

“My turn next,” he says, exhaling sharply as Raidou nods. He can terrify even the strongest man but here, now, it’s his turn to quiver in the face of uncertainty. Raidou’s subtly angled himself to block the lightswitch and Ibiki knows it’s because of his pause. “I can show you.”

“That’s all I’m asking,” Raidou says. 

“Sure,” Ibiki mumbles. He decides it’s better to just rip it off as he would a bandage, and Raidou sucks in a breath when his shirt hits the ground. It sounds like something not quite horrified, not quite upset, but almost…angry as Ibiki wraps his arms around himself. “I can put it back on.”

It’s Raidou who insists he stop this time. He catches Ibiki’s arm when Ibiki steps forward with the intention to cover himself again, and Ibiki starts at the sudden contact. “Please don’t,” Raidou says. “Not after you’ve gotten this far.”

“It’s not that far,” Ibiki whispers. “Just a shirt.”

“Just--” Raidou begins, and looks at the floor as he steps forward. “Just a shirt, my ass,” he mumbles, pressing his lips to the ruined skin of Ibiki’s cheek as their bodies fall flush against one another. “This is the most I’ve seen of you. Don’t you dare put that down as a ‘just.’ Not unless these are just marks you don’t give a fuck about.” He drags his fingers down Ibiki’s ribs, letting his nails catch slightly, and swallows Ibiki’s quiet whine with a kiss. “You’re incredibly handsome, you know that?”

“Would we be here if I did?” Ibiki asks.

Raidou’s lips curl when he pulls back. “No,” he says. “We’d be getting drunk with Genma, stumbling back here at god-knows-what hour, and falling into bed only to fall asleep.” His hands come up to cup the sides of Ibiki’s neck as his eyes lift, and Ibiki doesn’t know if he’s ever seen these depths of joy in them before. “But you don’t, and I get to see you.”

“And?”

“And what?” Raidou whispers against his lips.

Ibiki swallows hard as Raidou tugs one of his hands down to rest over him. “What do you think?”

“I think a lot of things. I think bars are foul, crowded places. I think your interior decorating needs improvement,” Raidou says, and Ibiki hangs his head as he tries not to laugh. “I think you’re not the bastard you think everyone considers you, and I--”

“Raidou…”

“Let me finish,” he says softly, letting his hands fall to Ibiki’s chest. “I was going to say I want to read what’s written on your skin.” He presses gently and Ibiki lets himself fall to the bed, Raidou standing proud as he looks down. “Lay down, Ibiki.”

It’s with no small amount of effort Ibiki does. He supposes it’s better to be stretched out below Raidou instead of on top as he usually prefers, and the way Raidou’s tongue peeks between his lips like Ibiki is a delicacy confirms it. His eyes shut though, because though his pillows speak safety he feels too exposed for the moment. 

Raidou notices. “Hey,” he says, gently running a hand up Ibiki’s clothed calf before leaning down on one elbow to smile up at him. “We stop when you want.”

“I know, I just--” Ibiki bites his lip when that same hand teases the hem of his pants leg, fingers rubbing gently on the skin of his ankle. “Fuck.” 

It’s been so, so long since the last time he allowed someone in like this. He presses his palms to his eyes and takes a deep, calming breath--the kind they teach you to take when you’re in the field, down, and in dire need. It’s the kind they teach you to take when you think you might be dying and as Raidou shuffles to kiss up his side, Ibiki thinks he just might.

“Ibiki?” Raidou asks, voice rumbling against Ibiki’s neck as Ibiki tries to get a grip.

He doesn’t know whether to say stop or keep going.

Raidou’s hands are heated, his breath warm, body pressing against Ibiki’s nothing less than a furnace, and it’s--

“Too much,” he whispers, barely audible.

Raidou stops immediately. His hands withdraw and Ibiki rolls onto his side to press his forehead into Raidou’s shoulder, hiding himself the best he can. “I’m sorry,” Raidou says softly. 

“Don’t be.” Ibiki stays there a few seconds, breathing syncing with Raidou’s before he gathers the courage to kiss along the edges of his scars. He can hear his heartbeat rushing in his ears as he makes his way up Raidou’s neck, nibbling and working the occasional bruise into his skin. “I wouldn’t let you hurt me,” he says, and feels the way Raidou shudders beneath him. “I just need time.”

“You can have it,” Raidou says. When Ibiki looks up, his eyes are shut and there’s the ghost of a smile on his lips. “I won’t look if you want to go shut the lights off.”

Instead of leaping from the bed like he wants, Ibiki settles for pulling the blanket around them. “I never said that’s what I wanted,” he finally says. “I just said--”

“Time,” they say together, and Raidou rests his face against Ibiki’s. 

“Look at me,” Ibiki says.

Raidou does, brown eyes taking in all that he can before Ibiki leans in for another kiss. It’s almost painfully slow, the way they move together in the silence, but Ibiki takes Raidou’s face between both hands and hopes the other man can feel the words he’s too afraid to say back. Maybe tomorrow or the next day they’ll roll off his tongue as easily as they rolled off of Raidou’s. Maybe.

Someday.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s somewhere near midnight when Raidou drifts off. They’d laid there, barely speaking and hesitantly curled against one another, as the hours passed, and now Ibiki listens to the steady in and out of the other’s breathing as he debates shutting off the light. His alarm is always set for 5:15 AM but somehow, though he knows tomorrow will be another long day, he can’t seem to follow Raidou.

There’s too many thoughts racing through his mind, like the way Raidou’s lips had ghosted over his pitted skull. The way he’d tilted Ibiki’s head to his chest and begun to memorize the marks left by people who didn’t care if he lived or died. The way there had been no hint of a hurry, no idea of order or  _ need  _ in Raidou’s fingers as they took in every scar Ibiki had kept hidden so long.

The look on his face when he told Ibiki in no uncertain terms he loved him.

With a heavy sigh, Ibiki rolls over and sits up. If there’s even a chance he’ll get some sleep, it’s much higher with the light off. Raidou mumbles and hugs his pillow tighter when darkness falls, and Ibiki caresses the side of his face with a soft smile when he sits back down. It’s always been an unspoken agreement between them, that neither spends the night. Both need rest, and rest is hard to get when you’re continuously scared your bandana will slip or your shirt will ride up. 

Sleep feels almost too personal to share with anyone else. Even on missions, someone’s keeping watch and you’re welcome to take your own tent if you want. Mission sleep is different. It’s barely sleep at all, as any shinobi knows. It’s glimpses of black in the seconds your eyes close, because the empty road can bring anything from detours to death. 

Ibiki’s seen firsthand what giving yourself up to it can bring.

Raidou is  _ quiet.  _ Minutes slip away and soon an hour is gone, and Ibiki needs to check and make sure the other man is still breathing. He sees his fingers twitch, light from the curtain crack pooling over Raidou’s hand in an invitation to hold it. Their skin slides together and Raidou smiles for a second before nuzzling his face into Ibiki’s arm. 

Quiet, and trusting.

Quiet, trusting, and  _ Ibiki’s,  _ and Ibiki’s still not quite sure what to make of it. Raidou in sleep has the innocence of a child. It makes Ibiki nervous, because it feels like something that can and will be spoiled. No matter how hard Raidou begs for him, no matter how many times he falls to the floor and smirks up at him, somehow there’s always that fear Ibiki will wreck him.

His hand tightens on Raidou’s back just before the other man’s eyes crack open. “What time is it?” he asks hoarsely. “I can leave…”

“Don’t,” Ibiki whispers. The heaviness of Raidou’s head as it flops back onto his shoulder makes him smile, and he catches Raidou’s lips with his. “Alarm’s set for early.”

“Early?”

“Five fifteen.”

Raidou’s groan shakes the bed.  _ “So _ early,” he says, rolling and attempting to search for the clock.

“You have a few hours,” Ibiki says. He’s still a little shocked at the whole situation, if he’s being honest. He’s shocked at the willing way Raidou’s body curves back against his when both relax under the warmth of the blanket to the sound of still-falling rain outside. “Go back to sleep.”

“You too,” Raidou insists. When he yawns, he brings their tangled hands to his mouth. “Or I’ll have to...mn, fuck, I don’t know. Something.”

“Can I be something later?”

Raidou’s hair sticks up every which direction as he props himself up on an elbow and squints back at him. “I don’t get it.”

“Or I’ll have to fuck...something,” Ibiki quotes, lips whispering over his partner’s pulse as they sink into the mattress. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Deal,” Raidou breathes, and Ibiki can feel as sleep begins to creep through his body again. He’s always been just the slightest bit jealous of the fact that Raidou  _ can  _ just deal but it’s also something he admires. Casually unaffected, and eternally vigilant. Even now, as Raidou stiffens and nearly hits Ibiki as he flies around to face him. “Wait, are you asking me to…”

“Only if you want to.”

“Dammit,” Raidou says. He shifts slightly away and Ibiki’s worried he finally asked for too much, pushed him too far...and then he feels as Raidou’s hips very purposefully roll against the sheets. “I  _ was  _ going to get sleep tonight.”

“There’s always more days ahead,” Ibiki says, worry abating. “We can sleep.”

Raidou pauses for a second before slipping a knee between Ibiki’s legs and nodding. “Later,” he says into a scarred shoulder. “Tell Gen to fuck off with plans for another night.”

“Deal,” Ibiki says softly, parroting. He stretches along with Raidou and doesn’t look at the clock before letting his eyes slip shut as he rests his face against his partner’s. With the admissions out of the way, an easy quiet falls over them to lull both into sleep.

The alarm sounds too soon, and if a sleeping Raidou was something to die for, Raidou woken early is something to die  _ from.  _ “Crab,” Ibiki mumbles with a smile over the rim of his coffee cup.

Raidou growls something unintelligible and flops into a kitchen chair.

Eventually they make their way into the outside world, pausing for one last lingering kiss outside Ibiki’s door before going to their respective positions. Paperwork goes slowly, Aoba’s teasing is yet again frustrating, and the cries of prisoners aren’t a welcome distraction from anything. If Ibiki’s honest, nothing could distract him from the thought of how Raidou had felt pressed against him. 

In typical shinobi fashion, nothing goes as expected and by the time both are in the village at the same time, it’s nearly a month later. Ibiki thinks nothing of the handwritten report crossing his desk--it’s just another file to add to the paperwork--but when he’s done for the day, Raidou’s waiting outside the building with a smile on his lips and a flower in his hands. “What’s this for?” he asks as the other man tucks it into his coat.

“Haven’t learned flowers from Inoichi yet?” Raidou teases.

Ibiki huffs a laugh as they begin toward home. “He’s taught me a lot of things, but they’re usually of a harder nature.”

“Mm,” Raidou hums. He slips his fingers into Ibiki’s and leans against him while the sounds of Konoha rush over them. “I’m not going to lie, it took me a while to figure it out. I wasn’t going to go in and ask for one that symbolized, uh…”

“Love?”

“Oh, no, that’s easy enough.”

Ibiki stops and pulls Raidou around to face him, tucking them behind a tree and largely out of sight. “What, then?”

“I kept thinking about that night and what you asked,” Raidou says. “A coral rose. Desire, because--” he leans over to whisper in Ibiki’s ear and presses against him for the briefest second-- “I want you, and unless you’re being shipped out tonight, I’m all yours.”

“Propositioning me in the street, Raidou? What am I going to do with you?” Ibiki asks. “What...to do?”

Raidou pats his chest and pulls him into the street again. “Sit back and let me woo you.”

Wooing, it turns out, consists largely of an exhausted Raidou tossing meat and vegetables in a pan and attacking it while stuck to Ibiki’s side. “Honestly, I should’ve eaten on the road,” he says around bites, “but I wanted to get home and see if you were available. I missed you.”

“Cute,” Ibiki says.

“Aww, come on,” Raidou says, looking out of the corner of his eye. “No ‘I missed you too, darling’?”

“You know I did.” Ibiki leans down and presses his nose to the side of Raidou’s head, lips skirting the outer shell of his ear. “There were some especially long nights in hotel rooms where the thought of you kept me up.”

Raidou shivers, eyes slipping shut as he swallows. “Oh?”

“Mhmm.” Ibiki doesn’t elaborate, choosing instead to sit back and let the anticipation swell and break over him. Slowly, quietly, and with the tiniest touches, he and Raidou begin to explore. At first, it’s the brush of their fingers when he takes Raidou’s bowl. Then, it’s the brush of Raidou’s lips over the back of his neck as he helps put the kitchen back together. Tension builds between them, heady and intoxicating, until Raidou breaks it with a purposeful look and touch of his hand. 

“I want you,” he repeats, eyes open and earnest. 

Ibiki takes a deep, calming breath before pressing their lips together. He takes Raidou’s face in his hands and smooths his thumbs over the line of the other man’s jaw, one side shadowed with several days’ worth of growth and the other graced by his scars. “How?” he asks softly when they part.

“Thoroughly--” Raidou smiles, something Ibiki feels more than sees, and rests his hands over Ibiki’s-- “and so, so deeply it hurts.” 

The countertop presses into the small of Ibiki’s back. It should be uncomfortable, but he can’t focus on anything but the feeling of warm lips on his throat and warmer hands slipping down to brush over the sensitive skin just above his waist. It’s his turn to shiver now, Raidou’s intent clear and unyielding even when he touches the edge of an old wound. “I think I can handle that,” he says, letting his head tip to the side when Raidou kisses more insistently. “Everything.”

Raidou whines softly at that, lashes fluttering against Ibiki before he takes Ibiki’s hands and tugs him forward. “Bedroom.”

They very nearly make it. It’s not far, and not a hard journey, but when Raidou begins whispering about how good he’s going to make Ibiki feel, Ibiki cages him against the wall and ravages him. Breathless sighs and broken, aborted whines fill the hall as he bites into Raidou’s shoulder, presses heavily against the bulge in Raidou’s pants. “Feels good,” Ibiki groans. “Bet you can make it feel better.”

“Hah--” Raidou manages, worming out from Ibiki’s arms to press himself along the length of Ibiki’s back. One hand splays over his chest, the other brushing over Ibiki’s clothed cock as Raidou grinds into him. “If I do?”

“You get my undying affection?” Ibiki mumbles to the wall. He feels tension bleeding into his shoulders at being pinned and in the next second, Raidou is already letting him go and soothing him with a quiet caress.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

Ibiki smiles softly and knits their fingers together when he turns around. “No harm done,” he whispers. “Just be careful.”

Raidou slumps into him with a sigh, lazily mouthing at the curve of his shoulder while Ibiki’s heart settles. His hands don’t wander as much this time, and Ibiki tucks him under an arm as he steps backward into the sanctuary of his room. His partner’s eyes are wide in the fading light shining through the curtains, the gold of the sunset dusting pinked cheeks and setting irises ablaze. Kiss-bitten lips fall open when Ibiki hesitates pulling his shirt off and Raidou’s reaching for him again, slowly this time. “Let me,” he whispers.

Being bared is better than being pinned, though not by much. “Ahh,” Ibiki breathes. It is better, but it is  _ hard  _ as fabric whispers over his sides. He’s pulling at Raidou’s shirt the  _ second  _ his hits the floor so there’s a bit of equality between them. There’s a small attempt to hide behind the excuse of need, but Raidou sees through it and disrobes completely.

“Let me,” Raidou says once again, stubble sliding along scars as he leans to love on Ibiki’s neck while working the fastenings on his pants. “Where’ve you been keeping the lube?”

“Little early for that,” Ibiki jests.

“Nah.” Raidou kneels before him as he helps Ibiki step out, then trails his fingers ever-so-lightly over Ibiki’s legs on the way back up. “Just makes it easier to devote my time solely to you.” He reaches to tug at the bars through Ibiki’s nipples, breaking away when Ibiki points to the nightstand. The bottle is nearly half empty, and Raidou smirks when he turns back. “Late nights thinking of me?”

“Late nights,” Ibiki agrees. It’s more than a little embarrassing, caught up in Raidou’s coy smile, but Ibiki lets the other guide him to sit on the bed. When Raidou kneels over him, cock brushing up against his stomach, he settles back on his elbows. “Don’t you look like a cat who got the cream.”

“I have you, and that’s what I prefer,” Raidou says with a small laugh. “All the way up, come on.”

It’s a little easier in darkness. Light dies and with it, more of Ibiki’s inhibitions. He  _ moans,  _ low and unrestrained, when Raidou begins to truly explore. There’s never been anyone allowed this close before, never been anyone who he’s trusted to have his best interest at heart. Raidou’s pulse beats steadily in the hands that hold Ibiki steady.

“Would you like to tell me about them?” he asks, resting his chin on Ibiki’s sternum. “Or do I get to go at my leisure?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Ibiki groans. “Just touch me, please.” His voice breaks a bit on the please, and he swallows hard. The openness isn’t totally new anymore--there’s no reason to be emotional. “Please.”

“All right,” Raidou says gently. 

He begins by spreading his hands across Ibiki’s skull. There’s a lot that could be said: stories about how he lost silver hair to silver instruments of pain, tales of the techniques he learned during his time in Aoi’s ‘care.’ Ibiki lets out a shaky breath as fingers ghost over stories better reserved for briefings and a bottle of something strong. There are things he knows, things he’s experienced, that no one but he and supervisors past have shared.

Things he’s vowed to take to his grave.

Raidou is content to simply touch. When Ibiki trembles below him, he takes the time to learn why. He lets Ibiki go as far as he wants, whether it’s a simple ‘don’t touch there’ or an actual story. There’s pleasantry mixed with the pain, such as the small nick just below his collarbone. Idate had been throwing shuriken at a tree in the backyard and when Ibiki surprised him, he took one to the chest. It had stung, but a few stitches and some time had him like new again.

He laughs as he remembers, and Raidou kisses along his chest as he laughs with him.

It doesn’t take long for his nerves to begin singing. For a while, he was content with the way his cock caught against his partner’s. He was content with the touches of friction. When Raidou’s lips close over the bars, though, tongue and teeth teasing his nipples until they’re harder than they’ve ever been, he begins to squirm. 

“Haven’t even got my fingers in you yet,” Raidou says to the underside of Ibiki’s jaw. He’s already reaching for the bottle on the other side of the bed but Ibiki gets to it first, pushing it into his hand as he presses their hips together. 

“You should hurry, then,” Ibiki says.

A soft hum is all he gets in reply, accompanied by the bottle opening and the slick sound of fingers warming liquid. Raidou’s bulk shifts down, ever lower until his cheek brushes against the inside of Ibiki’s thigh. “You’re still sure?”

“Yes, Rai, just--” Ibiki breaks off with a sharp inhale as Raidou begins to worry a bruise into his skin. “Hey.”

Raidou’s eyes are unrepentant when he peers up Ibiki’s stomach. “Yes?”

“Damn it,” Ibiki says. He slumps back to the pillow and tells Raidou to do it again, and Raidou does. Lips turn to tongue as he leans closer, setting Ibiki to twitching in anticipation. There’s a silvery puddle forming on his lower stomach and he really just wishes Raidou would drag his tongue over it, smooth away the evidence of his teasing. “Come on,” he mumbles when a finger circles his entrance. “Raidou, please.”

Raidou’s fingers are much slimmer than his own. He doesn’t do it often, usually too worn or worried to manage more than a quick orgasm down the shower drain, but when he does...well, maybe Raidou will be here to do it for him more. His hips seek the touch, mouth falling open in a nearly silent cry when Raidou begins a slow, rocking rhythm over his prostate. “I love it when you make those noises,” he whispers, breath washing over Ibiki’s neglected cock. “Do it again for me?” He crooks his fingers, presses a bit harder, and Ibiki’s hands fist in the sheets as his cock drips.

“Just fuck me,” he pleads. He feels nearly sloppy, fucked out on just Raidou’s fingers as he brings a hand to wrap around himself. “I want you in me so bad, baby,  _ please.”  _

His words seem to shock something into place, because he doesn’t think he’s ever seen Raidou move so quickly as when he’s rolling on a condom and poising himself at Ibiki’s hole. Ibiki rolls his hips, whining in discontent when Raidou’s cock catches on his rim before it finally,  _ finally  _ sinks in.

They’re both still for a second, drinking in the feeling. Ibiki loosens his fist, lets himself relax until Raidou begins to move.  _ This  _ is different than anything Ibiki’s done to himself, inch by unyielding inch filling him until he’s sure there’s no room for breath in him. He shuts his eyes and is surprised when he feels Raidou’s mouth on his.

“How am I doing on catching your undying affection?” Raidou asks. There’s a strain in his voice, one Ibiki recognizes as him trying to drag his feet on the way to the edge. He grinds into Ibiki, breath fluttering as Ibiki tightens around him. “God, do that and I’m not going to last, Ibiki--”

Ibiki tries again, and Raidou looks about to lose it as he pulls out. “You told me once there’s fewer things you like more than making someone happy,” he says, wrapping his arms around Raidou’s neck. “I knew I couldn’t be the only one needing it like oxygen.”

“Fuck--”

“We have all night, Raidou, but I swear to god--” Ibiki sighs into Raidou’s neck-- “start moving or I’ll sit you down and do it myself.”

“Wouldn’t that be a sight.” Raidou wastes no time, though, and fucks into Ibiki the same way he said he wanted him--thoroughly, deeply, and irrevocably his. Sweat and sighs mingle in the sanctity of the moment, Raidou’s orgasm chasing Ibiki’s in the time that follows. When they’re done, their limbs tangle in a trembling pile until Ibiki sorts them out. 

“Thank you,” he whispers.

Raidou presses a sloppy kiss to his chest, hair tickling his shoulder. “Pretty sure I should be thanking you,” he says. “That was incredible.”

“You’re welcome, then, I suppose,” Ibiki says. He nudges Raidou’s head up to run a thumb over his slightly swollen lip before capturing it between his. “But we’re not sleeping like this.”

Raidou simply groans.

“No, I know that sound,” Ibiki says. 

Raidou is unimpressed as Ibiki sits up, more so when he’s dragged into his arms. There’s a small protest when he’s picked up, but when the condom’s disposed of and he’s standing under the warm spray of the shower, he sighs in relief. “You realize you’re not getting rid of me until at least tomorrow night, right?”

“Wouldn’t expect it any other way.” Ibiki shuts the shower curtain and leans against the wall, lazily watching Raidou as he cleans himself. “Sure you’re ready to share my bed for another night?”

“I could pass out on the floor right now and call it good,” Raidou yawns, “but I’ll take your bed too. Maybe change the sheets, though.”

“Cruel taskmaster,” Ibiki says, chuckling at Raidou’s middle finger. “I think I can manage that, Raidou. You going to just sit in here until I’m done?”

“Mhmm.” Raidou turns around to search Ibiki’s face. “Remember when you asked me what I’d do if someday came?” he asks, suddenly solemn before his lips twitch up. “And I said I’d love you?”

“Yeah.”

Raidou ducks his head, burrowing into Ibiki’s shoulder as he pulls him into a hug. “I’m glad someday came, Ibiki. Glad I got the chance to love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments always read and _very_ much appreciated, and I always do my best to get back to them ❤️
> 
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